


A Hero, an Insomniac, and a Villain Walk Into a Cat Cafe…

by Dadzawa



Category: BnHA
Genre: Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Dabi is a Todoroki, its the most background thing ever, kiri doesn’t even show up in this oneshot, theres memes, theres swearing, there’s also background kiribaku but like, there’s cats, this is the result of a discord convo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 11:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dadzawa/pseuds/Dadzawa
Summary: Yesterday—or I guess two days ago, technically—the discord server had a conversation revolving around what would happen if Dabi and Bakugou ran into each other at a cat cafe. This is the result.It’s literally Dabi and Bakugou being little shits to each other for 6.7k. Also Shinsou shows up at one point.





	A Hero, an Insomniac, and a Villain Walk Into a Cat Cafe…

The common room was deserted, empty candy wrappers and fallen popcorn amid pillows strewn all over the floor thanks to last night’s movie night. It was a miracle Bakugou didn’t see any of his unconscious classmates sprawled over every available surface. He didn’t question his good luck, just slipped soundlessly out the side door and jogged down the path towards the entrance of UA. 

It was 5:30 on a Sunday morning, in late spring of his second year. The air was still and cool, and the sun was barely peeking over the horizon as he ran down the deserted footpath. He showed his pass at the gate and turned left, running to his new favorite cafe. 

Twenty minutes later he was hearing the cheery tinkle of the bell above the door, with an accompanying “Good morning!” from the owner and a chorus of meowed greeting from the furballs. Yeah. Bakugou Katsuki liked going to a cat cafe on his day off. What are you gonna do about it?

He spared the cat-eared owner a grunt in greeting and knelt down to give the needy shits at his feet the attention they craved. 

“Morning, shitheads. Yeah, fine, missed you too—Blue you fat fuck, have you been pigging out on Mochi’s food again? You’re gonna get diabetes and die, fuckin quit it already.”

“I swear, he gains another two kilos every week. I don’t know where he’s getting it either, he’s not stealing it from Mochi this time.”

“No shit?” Bakugou said, squinting up at them. “You think one of the patrons is sneaking him food?”

Mx. Sanders shrugged. “Could be. We got a new guy come in a little after you left last week, he’s been around every day since then. He and Blue are best buds: if anyone is giving him food on the side, it’d probably be him.”

Bakugou grunted and stood up to much vocal displeasure from Sara who was trying to climb into his lap. He stretched and brushed some errant cat hair off his clothes before turning to Mx. Sanders. They smiled warmly at him, tail flicking gently. “The usual, Bakugou-kun?”

“Yeah.”

Carefully, he made his way to his favorite spot—a well-worn couch near the side window, perfect for napping in the sunlight. The seven or so cats in the cafe followed him, getting under his feet and stopping right in front of him as cats do. Fortunately Bakugou was used to this, and safely made it with no injury to cat or human. He flopped in the middle of the patch of sun with a carelessness born of long practice, and relaxed his entire body one muscle at a time. 

“Here you are, one cup of ginger tea. Enjoy!”

Bakugou opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—to see them padding away, then looked down to find his lightly-steaming mug sitting on the arm of the couch. Mochi and Sara were lying on either side of him, purring gently in the warm early-morning sun. On the windowsill behind his head, Shao May stretched out fully, nose at one end of the window and tail-tip at the other. Blue, Kenma, and Toshi were lying on the steps leading up to Mx. Sanders’ flat, and Tomas was perched at the front desk like a guardian deity. It was 6:15 on a Sunday morning in early May, and as Bakugou sipped his tea in silence, he felt at peace. 

The bell above the door chimed cheerily, and the person who stepped through shattered any semblance of peace. Dark hair as unruly as Bakugou’s own, keen blue eyes, burn scars and piercings all over his body…none other than that fucker Dabi walked through the door of the cat cafe. 

Bakugou tensed, gripping tighter at the mug in his hand. But Mx. Sanders looked up, and their face lit up in recognition. “This is him! Bakugou-kun, this is Blue’s new friend!” Then they turned to a baffled Dabi and demanded, “Have you been feeding Blue under the table?”

On cue, Blue loudly yowled and sprang from his seat on the steps, making his way over to Dabi’s feet. Bending down, he picked the fat old cat up and scratched under his chin as he answered. “Yeah, why? He seemed hungry.”

The poor cafe owner let out a frustrated sigh, tail swishing side to side and ears flicking back slightly. “He’s a goddamn liar. Look at him, he’s like a balloon at this point! Please stop feeding him extra when you come here.”

“Oh. Alright, will do.” Then he turned, and his eyes met Bakugou’s across the cafe. He froze momentarily, then smirked and made his way to a table nearby. Like magic, the cats who weren’t otherwise occupied with a human started climbing all over him. For a few minutes they sat in silence, occupying themselves with their respective groups of cats, neither confirming or denying the presence of the other. 

“Here you go Yato, one white hot chocolate with peppermint whipped cream and a blueberry croissant. Remember, don’t feed it to Blue!” 

“Thank you, Mx. Sanders.”

They looked between the two young men and sighed. “It seems you two know each other already, and I’m not going to pry. BUT, I will insist that whatever problems you have with each other are left at the door. For you two, my cat cafe will be neutral ground. Deal?”

Bakugou grunted in consent, as did Dabi. When they left, hero and villain looked each other in the face. 

“…I don’t rat you out, you don’t rat me out.”

“Deal.”

And with that they ignored each other for the next half an hour, until Bakugou finished his tea and got up. Sara and Mochi mewed loudly in protest, then promptly fought over which of them would take his warm spot. He snorted. “Assholes. You could at least wait until I walk away.”

“They’re cats. Being assholes is what they do.”

Bakugou turned to look at the burned man next to him. “Bitch I fucking know. Also, Yato? Please, you’re not fooling anybody, Todoroki Touya.”

“Ah damn…you figured me out, huh? What gave it away?”

“The eyes, the quirk, the injuries, the special hatred of Endeavor…pick one. Also, your roots are showing.”

Immediately his hand flew to his head, frowning. “Shit you can see that? I thought I had another week at least…”

Nah,” he smirked. “But you just confirmed it for me.”

Without a backward glance, Bakugou made his way to the front to drop off his mug and say goodbye to Mx. Sanders. 

“Same time next week, Bakugou-kun?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

 

_______________

 

The next three times Bakugou went were identical to the first time he saw Dabi/Touya/Yato there. He would get to the cafe about 6 am, and fifteen minutes later he would walk in. They did not speak to each other. They did not acknowledge the other’s existence in the slightest. And at 7 am, Bakugou would leave and not spare the villain a second glance. 

The fourth time, however, was different. 

Earlier that week, the League Of Villains had attacked a baseball game to draw out the heroes. Bakugou and Kirishima had been there on a date, and when the first sign of trouble arose they wasted no time and sprang into action. The League hadn’t planned for the two of them to be there, and as a result they were driven off with minimal civilian injuries. But the League managed to get away, so naturally, Bakugou had to take revenge. Nothing too crazy, the cafe was still neutral territory…but man oh man, was he going to severely fuck with Dabi’s life. 

He went over the plan one more time in his head—distract the ass with Blue, slip the laxatives into his hot chocolate, hide the evidence, and wait. The fatass cat had an addiction to Monterey Jack cheese, so when Dabi had settled in with his customary hot chocolate and croissant, Bakugou made his move. 

There was a shallow shelf just above the table Dabi always sat at. Carefully, oh so carefully, Bakugou gently lobbed the first piece of cheese at the shelf. He had to get it just right—too far back and the cheese would be invisible, too far forward and it would fall off and alert his prey. 

It landed just on the edge, and Bakugou breathed a quick sigh of relief as he prepped the next stage. He quietly unscrewed the cap of the bottle of laxatives in his pocket, and watched as Blue scrambled up Dabi. 

“Ah- Blue, what are you—ow ow oW OW OW CLAWS—!!”

Now. Bakugou silently slipped over and poured the entire 8oz bottle into Dabi’s half-finished drink. Before the dyed-goth prick could disentangle himself from the old fatass, Bakugou had recapped the bottle and returned to his spot, with nobody but Sara, Mochi, and Tomas any the wiser. Bakugou resumed sipping his tea and contemplating the continuity of cats, Dabi retrieved Blue from the shelf, and half an hour later Bakugou left as normal—after confirming his target finished the entire drink, that is. 

Dabi stormed in the following week with barely a glance at Mx. Sanders or any of the cats. He stopped right in front of Bakugou and said, “You little shit, you slipped laxatives in my drink last week, didn’t you?”

Bakugou stared him dead in the face. “Of fucking course I didn’t,” he said—you know, like a _liar_ —as he slowly sipped at his tea. “Why the ever-loving fuck would you think I did it?”

“Because—” 

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by Mx. Sanders’ very obvious throat-clearing. “Mr. Yato, anything insinuating that this neutral ground was defiled by conflict will result in both of you being banned for life. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” he replied, scowling like a bratty child who didn’t get his way. 

“Good. Now, your usual?”

After the drinks and patrons were settled, Mx. Sanders disappeared, muttering something about inventory and mice in the stores. Once they were gone, Dabi turned on Bakugou. 

“I know you fucking did it. Do you have any idea how long I was in the bathroom? Toga and Twice wouldn’t stop laughing at me for days!”

“Sorry, does it look like I fucking care? You attacked a stadium full of people just trying to enjoy a baseball game. You’re fucking lucky a few hours on the shitter is the only thing I got you with.”

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your date?”

“Yes, actually, you did. Fuck you.”

“Mmm…I think I’ll pass, actually. You’re pretty, but not my type.”

Bakugou choked on his drink, jerked around to stare at the villain. “What the ACTUAL fuck?!”

“Oh? Did I stutter?”

Hero and villain stared each other down for a good five seconds, then Bakugou broke the silence. “I don’t fucking get you.”

“Good thing I’m not asking you to ‘get’ me, then.”

“Why? Why be a villain? Why not be a better hero than your shitty old man ever was?”

“You mean, why not be like my adorable baby brother Shouto? It’s simple. I don’t just hate Todoroki Enji, I hate the entire hero society. They’re all hypocrites at best, brutes and bullies at worst. Not a single one of the active pro heroes actually gives a shit about helping people. Maybe All Might did, but he’s not exactly around anymore, now is he?”

“So, what? All heroes are shitty, so you decided, ‘Fuck it, I’m gonna be a villain for them all to fight against’?”

“Mm…more or less, actually. Nothing unites people like a common enemy, and thanks to my wonderful father I’m far stronger than all but the top heroes on my own. Add in the rest of the League, and well…we’re essentially unstoppable. You heroes are gonna have to adapt or die if you wanna stop Shigaraki.”

“So instead of diving in to change hero society from the inside, you decided to run away and become part of the problem instead?”

“Have you not been listening? Hero society is the problem. I’m just pushing for change a different way.”

“Bullshit. You’re still scared of your dad.”

Dabi froze. When he next spoke, his voice was that scary-calm psychopaths are known for using. “You have two seconds to take that back.”

“Bitch did I fucking stutter? And I notice you’re not denying it.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Bakugou Katsuki,” he hissed, rising from where he sat and moving to tower over Bakugou. 

“Then enlighten me. Or fuck off, I don’t particularly care.”

Flames started to flicker at the edge of Dabi’s hair as he leaned in. “How about I show you why screwing with me is a bad idea?”

“Did you forget? We’re on neutral fucking territory bitch. Touch me and you’ll never be able to see Blue again.”

They froze, faces less than a foot away from each other, staring into the pits of each other’s soul. The only sound was the faint crackling of the flames at Dabi’s fingertips and their breathing. 

“Mrrp.”

He looked down to find Blue, butting his head insistently against his left leg, and doused his fire to pick him up. Cradling him against his chest, Dabi turned away slightly and said shakily(?), “You have no idea what I’m scared of.”

They passed the rest of the time in tense silence until Bakugou left. 

 

_______________

 

The next few weeks were the summer break, meaning Bakugou didn’t have any incentive to go back to the cat cafe at all. The League was quiet too, and as a result Bakugou didn’t see Dabi at all until the Sunday after school started again. The days were shorter, so Bakugou started his run in near-darkness—and yet by the time he made it to Mx. Sanders’ cafe, the sun was fully up. 

“Ah, Bakugou-kun! You’re back! How was your break?”

“Morning. It was alright. How have you been?”

“Fantastic! Ever since Mr. Yato stopped slipping Blue food he’s lost a lot of weight. Just look at him!”

And it was true, Blue was down a third of his previous size at least. Bakugou knelt and greeted all the cats with a scratch or pat. Mochi and Sara in particular seemed happy to see him, placing their paws on his leg and stretching up to run their faces against his jaw and lick his cheek with their sandpaper tongues. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too you shits. Mochi, have you gotten any better at defending your food from thieves? Sara, you better be whipping your idiot sister into shape.”

He picked them both up and cuddled them to his chest, reveling in the warmth and rhythm of their purring against his ribs. “The usual, please,” he said to the owner as he made his way back to his couch in the corner. He settled with his back against the arm, feet up on the cushions (with his shoes off, come on he’s not an animal), and both cats curled up in a warm puddle of furs and purrs on his stomach. He fought the urge to yawn. 

“Are you alright, Bakugou-kun?”

“Yeah, fine. Fall and winter just make me tired.”

“Ah, I see. Well, here’s your tea! That should wake you up some, right?”

“Of course it will, it always does. Thanks, Mx. Sanders.”

“Anytime, Bakugou-kun.”

And he was left with a steaming mug of tea and a pair of furballs holding him down. He lay there, dozing with the cats and his cooling tea, until he heard the sound of the bell above the door chime distantly. Cracking open a single eye, he looked over to find Dabi sauntering in. Bakugou fought the urge to yawn—yawning would disrupt the cats sleeping on his torso—and drank his tea. Almost immediately he felt more alert, if not more awake. 

“Well well, if it isn’t Mr. Bakugou Katsuki. Where have you been, hell?”

“Pfft. Nah, if I was in hell I definitely would’ve seen you there.”

Dabi chuckled and took a seat on the couch. This was new. “You know, I don’t get you either.”

“What’s not to get? I’m gonna be the number one hero, that’s all there is to it.”

Dabi hummed thoughtfully. “Is it though? I look at you and I don’t see hero material, to be honest. You’re angry and blunt, and you don’t work well with others, and you can barely take care of yourself in a fight—what makes you think you’d be a good hero?”

Bakugou glared. “If it weren’t for the laws of this land, I would’ve slaughtered you.”

“Laws? What fucking laws?”

“One, the law against conflict in general here. Two, the law against moving when a cat is sleeping on you.”

“…That’s fair. So are you gonna answer my question?”

Bakugou scoffed and looked away. “Why should I tell you anything?”

They sat in silence until Mx. Sanders came by with Dabi’s hot chocolate. 

“It’s not just my father.”

He glanced over at Dabi, then resolutely stared in the direction of the front. “Then what is it?”

“It’s…him, yes, but it’s also the rampant hypocrisy and disgusting money grabs by heroes across the board. You know Mt. Lady? She spends her time running PR and lets countless kids, teens, adults go homeless. At best. At worst, they’re being sold as sex slaves or used to test and sell drugs. And they _know_. They all know about this shit happening, and they won’t do anything! So, yeah, I see all the people who fell between the cracks and I ask you, How the FUCK does that seem like a solid, well-functioning hero society?!”

“If that’s your problem, why not become a vigilante? Sure you wouldn’t get paid, but it’s not like you’re getting paid to be a villain either. You’d have more freedom from heroes like that.”

“No, actually I wouldn’t. Vigilantes don’t have nearly the tech, resources, or time to do any of what the people in the cracks need. And even if they did manage to pull off a big bust, it’d be a pro hero that got the credit for it. That would just feed into the cycle of hypocrisy. Nah, everything except becoming a villain automatically feeds back into that. At least this way I have control.”

“Well fuck, who am I to tell you how to live your life? Just know, though, that I’m gonna stop you every time.”

“Like you stopped us at Kamino?”

Bakugou’s shoulders tensed, and if he didn’t want to keep the cats on him happy he would’ve launched himself at that smug burn victim. But he wanted to keep the cats happy, so he took a deep breath and said, “That was a year ago. We’re not as weak as we were then.”

“We?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Yes, we, we as in Class A, we as in hero society in general, we as in me and my five personalities. Pick one or whatever. We’re not as weak as we were last summer.”

“Hmmmm…now answer my question. What makes you think you’ll be a good hero?”

“I’m gonna be the very best. Like no one ever fucking was.” 

“Ok…but what makes you think you’ll be good at it?”

“Did I fucking stutter? I’m going to be the best, so first I have to pass good. And in order to get to good maybe I have to pass bad first. Good thing I’m me, or I might be stuck at bad for a while. I’m already a good hero. I just gotta get better.”

“But you’re an angry piece of shit.”

“And? I just don’t take anyone’s bullshit. If you’re worth my time, you’re worth my fucking time. If you’re not worth it, get out of my way or get worthy. I’m not picky.”

“But you can’t fucking work with people for shit!”

He snorted so hard Mochi picked her head up and meowed in his face. “Shh, I’m sorry. You clearly haven’t seen me in action very recently, have you?”

“You don’t give two craps about anyone or anything other than yourself and your ambitions.”

“Alright, that’s true. But guess fucking what? Neither did any of the greats. They just had the right fucking ambitions to begin with, so aiming for their top meant they’d still have to care about everyone else.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, both of them turning over the things that were said and heard just then. And then Dabi chucked dryly. “You really are a smartass aren’t you? You just have to have the right fucking answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Well, duh. I’m always right.”

He tsk-ed thoughtfully. “I’ll have to disagree with you there, but whatever. Aren’t you supposed to be leaving now or something?”

“I can’t get up. Cats, remember?”

“Mochi, Sara, Blue! Come on, it’s breakfast time!” Mx. Sanders rattled the dry food bag over by the stairs, and the three cats on Bakugou and Dabi jumped off and bolted to their owner. The two men sitting on the couch looked at each other for a second, then Bakugou moved. 

“Guess that’s my cue. Later, I fucking guess.”

“What’s this? Mr. Broody Hero Man admits this is becoming a routine he anticipates?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunted, pulling on his shoes. “I just know that I’m gonna see you later, either when I’m taking you down or here. You’re like a bad penny—you just keep turning up.”

“Right back atcha, Bakubitch.”

“Call me that again and I’ll blow the staples off your fucking face, flamefuck.”

They glared again, animosity thick in the air, until something shifted in Dabi’s face. “Whatever,” he smirked. “See ya around.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and walked away. 

 

______________

 

Next week was weird. Different. Strange. Bakugou walked in at his normal time to find Dabi, lying in the middle of the floor, with all seven cats piled on top of him. He stopped dead in the doorway. 

“What the fuck.”

“Yo, Bakubitch. How’s your week been?”

“What. The. FUCK.”

“Good, good. Me? Well, I’ve had a fucking WEEK, you know how it is, so I’ve decided to let myself be subsumed into the cats. Hand me my drink?”

“Fuckin understandable. Here you go.”

“Much obliged.”

As Dabi struggled to drink his hot chocolate without dumping it all over his face and Tomas, Bakugou moved to pick up Sara and Mochi. 

“Wait, wait, WAIT! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Bitch, I’m not letting you hog all the cats!”

“I can’t be subsumed into only five cats! What are you, crazy?”

“Says the FUCKING VILLAIN?! Anyway I’m taking Sara and Mochi, and you can’t fucking stop me!”

“You son of a bitch…”

“Damn straight she is,” Bakugou flashed back, scooping up the cats. He stepped over the puddle of bodies on the floor and collapsed on the couch, burying his face in the warm fur and inhaling deeply. The vaguely sweet, earthy, overall cat scent helped soothe him—much like Dabi, he had had a WEEK. The latter half of his penultimate year of high school was a stressful time…not like school in general wasn’t already stressful, and that wasn’t even taking into account his hero internship, not to mention his relationship with Eijirou…ugh. Being a teenager sucked. 

He fought the urge to scream and simply breathed, inhaling cat and exhaling stress. Once the fuzzballs in his arms started purring like twin motors, the stress melted away even faster. Bakugou didn’t know how long he sat there, letting himself be wiped clean by Sara and Mochi, but the next thing he heard was the cheery bell above the door. 

_Ah. Flamefuck is here now…wait a second…_

He lifted his head to find Mini-Aizawa staring at the pile of cats and villain on the floor in absolute befuddlement. He locked eyes with Dabi, and the scene became a tableau embodying Shook™. 

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

Fuck. FUCK. This was never supposed to happen. This cat cafe was supposed to be Bakugou’s haven, his secret indulgence, the one fucking thing keeping him from spazzing out and blowing up the training grounds one day. The Flamefuck was pushing it, but the added appearance of Mini-Aizawa was just too fucking much. He seriously considered leaving and never coming back. 

But Sara and Mochi…the couch…the ginger tea that simultaneously woke him up and put him at ease…quite honestly, Bakugou loved this place. Was he really going to put up with all these intruders for it?

…Oh goddamnit. He was. 

“Ah, welcome back Shinsou-kun! How have you been since last I saw you?” 

Great. Mx. Sanders knows him, too. Bakugou’s fate was sealed. 

“Fine, how have you been?” They exchanged pleasantries for a few seconds, then Mini-Aizawa was turning to face the rest of the room. He knelt close to the sprawled-out man on the floor. 

“You look like shit.”

“Pfft. I don’t wanna hear that from a guy who looks like death only slightly warmed over.”

“Excuse you, I make these eyebags work damnit.”

“Oh? I’m excused? How kind of you,” he retorted with a shit-eating grin that Bakugou couldn’t actually see, thanks to the five cats in his way. Mini-Aizawa rolled his eyes and stood. 

Mx. Sanders returned, mug in hand. “One black coffee, fresh from the pot! Enjoy, Shinsou-kun!”

“Thank you.”

Finally, FINALLY, Mini-Aizawa met Bakugou’s gaze, and froze for a second time. 

“…I propose a mutual vow of silence. We didn’t meet.”

“Agreed,” from the floor. 

“Never fucking saw you,” Bakugou growled through the cat fur. 

“Good.” And with that, Mini-Aizawa scooped up Toshi from the pile and made his way over to the spiral staircase in the corner. 

“Bring him back! My foot is cold now, and I can’t be subsumed by only four cats! The circle must be completed!!”

He paused, turning to give a 100% bona fide Aizawa-approved grin over his shoulder. “Make me.” And continued on his way. 

“BITCH—!”

Flamefuck subsided into disgruntled muttering, and eventually fell silent. The three young men passed the next half hour or so in complete silence, until Bakugou reluctantly set Sara and Mochi onto the couch next to him and stood up. Mochi mewed and swiped at his sleeve, catching her claws in the fabric. “What? I’ll be back next week, I’m not leaving forever.”

She pulled his wrist closer and rubbed her face along his knuckles, purring. She rasped her tongue across the back of his hand like a mother cleaning her kits, and every attempt Bakugou made at pulling away was met with a sharp nip. 

“Aww, wittwe Bakuboi has an admiwew! Bettew be cawefuw o him boyfwend might get jeawous of the sweet wittwe pussy twying to steaw him~!”

“Does every word out of your mouth have to be innuendo?” Bakugou asked, side-eyeing the Flamefuck on the floor. At the same time, Mini-Aizawa asked, “Did you seriously just speak Owo at us?”

“Yes and yes. Any other questions?”

“Do you know what’ll happen if you do it again?”

“No, but if I know you, Bakubitch, it’ll be something violent.”

“Damn straight. Speak like that again and cats or no cats, neutral ground or no neutral ground, I personally will plant the sole of my shoe into your fucking face.”

“Ooh, kinky. Harder Daddy~~”

“I’m not your fucking dad! You’re adopted.”

For a second they all froze. Bakugou didn’t even mean to tack on the “you’re adopted” bit at the end. He had just gone through the dying script so many times with Kaminari and Eijirou it was second nature. Nobody spoke, until…

“Roger? Roger?”

Bakugou turned to look at Mini-Aizawa in the corner. “Whaddaya want, bitch?”

“How dare you?”

“Yeah I said it.”

“How dare you?”

“Yeah I said it.”

“How dare you?”

“I don’t even care. And, and he’s—“ he turned, gestured to Flamefuck still lying on the floor, “—he agrees with me.”

“Yeah, whaddaya want, bitch?”

“Will you shut the fuck up?”

“Who do you think you are?”

“I’m the man of the house.”

“Yeah, and I’m the boy of the house.”

“Will you shut the fuck up?”

“Yeah, ok Dad.”

“What has gotten into this family?”

Bakugou rounded on the boy in the corner. “You’re not fam anymore.”

“Yeah,” Flamefuck piped up. “You’re not fam anymore!”

“Will you shut the fuck up?”

“Yeah, ok Dad.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because your moves are weak, babe! Ok?”

“Yeah, your moves are weak…ok bitch?”

“Hey, don’t call your mother a bitch!”

“But, Dad, I mean—cmon!”

“I’m not your dad.”

“Honey—what are you doin?”

“I’m telling him once and for all, alright?”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“I’m not your dad. You were adopted.”

Through the cats obscuring his face and body, Flamefuck did a decent job at looking utterly lost. “What? No! Wh-what?! No!”

“Look at your hair, and then look at mine.”

“…Mom?”

“What are you doing?”

“Lemme handle this, ok bitch?”

“Yeah, fam only!”

“I am your MOTHER.”

“No you’re not.”

“Not anymore, we decided you’re out!”

“Will you shut the fuck up with that, please? Jesus Christ…”

“Why-why am I not fam anymore?” Shit, Mini-Aizawa did a damn good job at sounding like he was barely holding back tears. 

“I’m not your fucking dad, ok? Look at you.”

“Dad, I look exactly like you, dude!”

“You look like a turd.” It wasn’t the script, he knew it wasn’t, but damn if Bakugou couldn’t help but to slide that in. 

“He does not look like a turd.”

“Will you shut the fuck up?!”

“I do not—“

“This is a family issue, ok?”

“Yeah, this is a family issue, you—bitch!”

“What did I tell you about calling your mother a bitch?”

“Why am I not fam anymore?”

“Because your moves are weak!”

“Because your moves are weak.”

“…Wh…?”

As best he could from his position on the floor, buried under a pile of cats, Flamefuck dabbed. “Your moves are weak, Mom!”

“Will you stop calling her mom?”

“But, Dad—“

“I’m not your dad! And she’s not your mom!”

“He’s right.”

“…What? Come on, fam…”

“We’re not your fam.”

“That’s right.”

“What?” The very picture of confusion, he turned to Bakugou. “…We’re fam, right?”

“No, you’re adopted, I’m not your fucking dad!”

“Yeah we found you. In a park. On a swingset. You were taped to it.”

“What?”

In an act of supreme self-sacrifice, Mini-Aizawa set Toshi down on the step next to him and moved towards the door. “This family doesn’t want me. You know what? I’m outta here.”

“Whaddaya mean?!”

“My wife and I are getting a divorce.”

“Wh—Dad!”

“I’m not your fucking dad!”

“Mom, cmon…”

“She’s not your mom!”

“I’m not your fucking mom, ok?”

“But Dad, wh—“ he made a pathetic half-dab, “—what about the moves?”

“There WERE no moves.”

“There were no moves.”

“Dad, c-cmon!”

“Watch how you’re talking to him!”

“Wh-what?”

“That’s my _adopted son,_ ok?!”

“…what the fuck is going on…?!” Flamefuck whispered quietly, with feeling. 

“Ok, I know.”

“Yeah, you don’t fucking talk to him like that!”

“He’s my adopted son too! Ok?!”

“Not anymore! I’m leaving!” And with that, he ripped his sleeve away from Mochi and faced the rest of the room fully. 

“Wh—you’re…l-leaving Mom?”

“She’s not your fucking mom!”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“You guys are getting a divorce?”

“I’m leaving with Mark, I like penis now.”

“What the—you’re GAY?!”

“Oh, you like penis now?”

“Yeah, I like big, fat penis, ok?”

“Dad, what the f—what’s going on?!”

“Well I hope it’s bigger than yours!”

“Oh it is! Bigger…than…both of ours, are bigger than yours.”

“Well then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Nah, you’re coming with me ‘n Mark!”

“Nah, I’m not going with you, Dad! You like penis…”

“There’s nothing wrong with liking a little penis.”

Acidly, his “wife” spat, “Thought you said it was a big penis.”

“IT IS A BIG PENIS. MARK’S GOT THE BIGGEST PENIS IN THE WORLD.…Besides mine.”

“…what are we supposed to do?”

“…you’re dying.”

“…you’re dying.”

Flamefuck was utterly floored. “What?”

“It’s true.”

“First I lose Mom—Mom and Dad—now Dad’s gay with Mark? ‘s got a big penis…Now I’m DYING?!”

“…I’m not gay.”

“He’s not gay, son.”

“Son? I thought I was adopted.”

“You’re not.”

“So you guys aren’t…getting a divorce?”

“No, we just wanted to make it easier on you.”

“We figured—we’ve got this news, it’d just make things a little bit smoother.”

“Oh, so you dropped a bomb that I’m divorced and you guys are getting adopted?!” He snapped. 

“No, _you’re_ adopted, _we’re_ getting a divorce.”

“Wh—“ He spluttered for a few seconds. “I thought you guys said you weren’t?!”

“We’re not, I’m just explaining it! We just wanted to…lighten the load…”

“We love you, son.”

“Am I dying?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t know. Just—dying.”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“You’re just fucking DYING, ok?! Jesus…”

“You’re gonna die.”

“When?”

“I don’t know! Someday?! Every-everybody dies!”

“Are y—what? Are you dying? And you?”

“Yeah, that’s what the fuck—Don’t they teach you this shit in school?!”

“I’m gonna die?”

“Yeah!…when you’re old.”

“Yeah.”

“WHAT?!”

Flamefuck dissolved into unintelligible whimpers, mutters, and general Existential Crisis Mode™…and then the three of them heard a heartfelt, “What the FUCK,” from Mx. Sanders. 

They turned to look at them, who had obviously seen their whole scene play out seamlessly. And then the three young men burst out into pure, unadulterated laughter. They laughed for a solid five minutes at least, and all the while poor, confused Mx. Sanders looked between them, no doubt questioning their collective sanity. 

Finally, wiping tears from his eyes, Bakugou turned to Mini-Aizawa. “We should get back to UA, shouldn’t we?”

“Do you really want to show up at the same time?”

“…eh fuck it, you’re not the worst of our classmates to be seen associating with.”

He gasped dramatically. “Coming from the dread Blasty McSplodes, that’s tantamount to a ringing endorsement! Are you feeling ok?”

Just like that, any trace of laughter was wiped from Bakugou’s face. “You know what? Just for that, I’m ditching you with Flamefuck over there.”

“Oh, so you ARE leaving with Mark, Dad?”

“You little shit—“ he whirled, pointing dead at the villain still lying on the floor. “This changes nothing, by the fucking way.”

“Oh, of course. I still utterly despise you and everything you stand for, Bakubitch.”

“Feelings mutual, Flamefuck. You coming, Aizawa-wannabe?”

“Damn, that’s my nickname? Really?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

He turned and collected his empty mug from the arm of the couch and returned it to the hapless cafe owner, then he and Mini-Aizawa left and started making their way back to UA. 

They walked in silence for a while, until Mini-Aizawa asked, “You seriously hang out with the person who kidnapped you?”

“And your only friends are cats, fuck off.”

“Whatever.”

 

_______________

 

Bakugou returned to Mx. Sanders’ cat cafe two days later, when he was on his internship. It wasn’t a normal trip: no, the League was attacking the neighborhood. They had somehow gotten a Noumu with a seismic Quirk, sorta like that fake-ass prick from the first provisional license exam Bakugou took. Needless to say, it was causing widespread damage throughout the neighborhood, and Bakugou found himself among ruins with a very familiar-looking couch nearby. 

His heart clenched. Desperately, he looked around, hoping and praying that he wasn’t where he thought he was…but there was Tomas’ perch, the spiral staircase, the broken bits of coffeemaker…

From under a pile of rubble came a very familiar meow. “Mochi!” Forgetting the League, forgetting everything but the cats he loved being crushed under tons of broken concrete and the weight of a destroyed safe space, he dashed towards the rubble. He threw pieces aside and peered into the hollow. There was Mochi, Sara, Shao May, Tomas, Kenma, Toshi…Blue? Where was Blue? And Mx. Sanders? 

“Here, kitty kitty kitty…come here. You remember me, I won’t hurt you…” Gradually he managed to coax the six terrified cats from the hollow and gathered them around his feet. He stood, surveying the area, only to hear from behind him a voice. 

“Well hello there, Bakubitch. Rather, would you like to be called BakuGod? Since you are on duty, after all… _hero._ ”

Bakugou slowly turned around. There, twenty meters away, dramatically backlit by a fire he probably set specifically for that purpose, stood Dabi. He was holding Mx. Sanders by the back of the neck. “Hands where I can see them, hotshot.”

“Really? You’re gonna be that unoriginal with one-liners?” Even while taking shots at Dabi’s snark game (or lack thereof), Bakugou was carefully holding his hands out to his sides. He had been through hostage situation sims with the rest of his class, he knew what to do. Since he had history with Dabi, his job might actually be easier than when he was training with Aizawa-sensei. 

“Good boy. So you can be obedient after all. Take off your bracers.”

Again he complied, eyes fixed on the terrified face of Mx. Sanders. He dropped them, one by one, making sure to not let them fall or drop onto the cats at his feet. “Let them go, shithead. They make you fucking Christmas hot chocolate and this is how you say thanks? Not to fucking mention how goddamn weak it is to hide behind someone who can’t fight.”

“Weak or smart? Whatever, it doesn’t actually matter at this point…what matters is whether or not you are going to let Mx. Sanders here slip through the cracks today. Walk away from the cats.”

Bakugou did so, taking careful step after careful step, mind working like a machine. When he had covered about half the distance between them, Dabi said, “Stop right there.”

Excellent. Now was the perfect time to pull his trump card. It wasn’t guaranteed to work, and if it didn’t he would have to fight him…but here goes nothing. “Neutral ground.”

For a heartbeat he froze, shadows shifting across his face. Then he started to laugh, louder and more unhinged the longer it went on. “Neutral ground?! NEUTRAL FUCKING GROUND?! What, my dear Bakubitch, makes you think neutral ground exists on a fucking battlefield?!” As he spoke, he gestured wildly at the rubble, the fire, the dirty and lightly-injured cats. 

“Am I fucking fighting you? No. This ain’t a battlefield, it’s a goddamn natural disaster zone. And as far as I’m concerned, this particular area of disaster zone is neutral ground.” And he held his breath, waiting to see if his tactic would work. 

It almost didn’t. But as his fingers tightened around the cat-person’s neck, as Mx. Sanders’ tail puffed up in pain and alarm, they heard a tiny “mrrp” from the side. And who should come sauntering up without a care in the world, as though everything they laid eyes on belonged to them and them alone, but Blue. He fearlessly walked right up to Dabi and wound his way in between his ankles, purring all the while. 

For a long, long moment, nobody moved. Bakugou couldn’t even be sure anyone breathed. Time had functionally stopped. And then he knelt, bringing Mx. Sanders down with him, and scratched Blue in his favorite place. 

“Neutral ground.” He spoke so low, for a second Bakugou wasn’t sure he even said anything. But no, the hand around their throat released and Mx. Sanders stumbled away, stumbled towards Bakugou and the six other cats, and time began to move again. Dabi kept his head down, all his attention focused on the cat that was currently stretching up towards his chin. Abruptly he stood and turned, tossing back over his shoulder, “This is the last time. See you around, hero.” 

And he was gone. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Bakugou could vaguely remember getting the cafe owner and their herd of cats to the evacuation center, then working to get any other civilians out of the destroyed area. Before he knew it, it was 7:30 and he was trudging back to Heights Alliance, battered and dirty and so, so tired. 

He would never see Mx. Sanders, Sara, Mochi, Blue, any of them, again.

**Author's Note:**

> This took a surprising turn, actually. I was not expecting it to go the way it eventually did, though overall I’d say I’m happy with it. Except the names. I can’t name anything for shit lmao.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I almost had Dabi kill Mx. Sanders, just cuz I hated what I named them, but eventually I decided I didn’t want to go to sleep with that on my conscience. 
> 
> How many references can you find in this??
> 
> Comments are much appreciated!! Have a good day/morning/night/afternoon/whatever!!
> 
> EDIT: I didn’t realize until about halfway through but Shinsou, Bakugou, and Dabi are coffee-tea-hot chocolate solidarity at its finest lmao. I meant to say something about it sooner but it slipped my mind.


End file.
